Disclaimer: I don't own Yuugiou or Megadeth, but I am a member of the Megadeth fanclub. Yep, really. And I have a Malik action figure. O.o

Warnings: Weird pairings, yaoi, kinda choppy because it was written in bits, Major, major ooc-ness and Bakura angst. Also, if you're a huge Yami Yugi fan... I don't like him.

IMPORTANT! This is not a rape fic. It may sound like it at times. It isn't, right?

A/N: Title comes from a Megadeth song that reminds me of Bakura. But not as much as 'Sweating Bullets', so listen to that and disturb your parents.

Marik Yami

Malik Hikari

Bakura Yami

Ryou Hikari. Got that?

Dread and the Fugitive Mind

Part 1

Seto watched Marik watch Bakura, who was oblivious to the attention. The thief was lurking in a shadowy corner at the back of the huge room, near the coat racks and the door out onto the balcony. He probably would have been out there to get even further away from the party if it hadn't been so cold, and he'd been wearing more than a pair of white jeans and a lot of bandages.

It was Halloween, and the party had been Mokuba's reward for keeping his grades up. Seto hadn't minded too much anyway, these days Kaiba-corp. practically ran itself, and he'd had little else to do but organise this party for the last week or so. And it had to be said – no matter how annoying they were at times, Yugi-tachi never failed to provide entertainment.

Currently most of them were playing games with Mokuba in the middle of the large room he'd opted to hold the party in. The Kaiba mansion had a little too much space, Seto sometimes thought. Even with all these people here, it still felt far too big. Perhaps it was because he was used to not noticing it when there was only Mokuba and himself. Although, Mokuba was off at school or out with friends a lot of the time now anyway.

"Well, they look like they're having fun," a deep voice halted Seto's train of thought. "I think my light has a thing for either Otogi or Ryou."

Seto turned to face Marik, who'd come to the party as a vampire and suited the long, flowing cloak he was wearing.

"I had no idea," Seto replied, glancing over at where Otogi, Ryou and Malik were laughing about something and playing Monopoly with the rest of Yugi-tachi. He'd never considered it before, but the three of them did seem to suit each other well enough, if Malik could decide which he wanted and convince them he wasn't a complete maniac now. It didn't look to be too much of a problem, though. It had been a couple of years since they'd all reached their – somewhat uneasy at first – friendship. The only people who really didn't get on were Bakura and Yami, although Yami seemed to be trying to end the animosity between them. Bakura so far hadn't been receptive to the idea; Seto figured some scars just went too deep to heal with time.

"So, what're you supposed to be?" Marik asked, running his amethyst eyes over the black, swirling tattoos on one side of Seto's face, spiking from the corner of his eye to curve around and down his cheek. The brunette's nails had also been painted black, but that was as far as he'd gotten when it came to a Halloween costume. Other than his tattoos and painted nails, the CEO was dressed completely in black, his usual outfit minus the trench coat.

"Gothic, I suppose. It was Mokuba's idea." Seto stated, following Marik over to sit on one of the couches placed around the room. He quite enjoyed Marik's company, now that he was his own person and not just an aspect of Malik's personality.

"Hm? I think gothic is a good look for you," Marik decided, giving him another thorough inspection. Seto wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but Marik changed the subject before he needed to answer.

"It doesn't look like 'Kura's enjoying himself much, though. I heard Ryou say he had to beg for half an hour just to get him to turn up tonight." The Egyptian yami looked over at where Bakura still hadn't moved from his corner, red eyes half-lidded in thought as he stared off out of the large glass door that led onto the balcony.

"He looks tired," Seto noted, taking in the way the bandages he wore were draped all over the thief's chest and arms, revealing strips of pale skin where they hung loosely off him. The former tomb robber had come as a mummy, somewhere deep down he found it amusing. Ryou had just rolled his eyes affectionately and said that his yami was being morbid, as usual.

"Yeah," Marik agreed, frowning. "I'm worried about him."

"Why?" Seto asked, leaning back and folding his arms comfortably. He knew Marik had a soft spot for Bakura, but that was nothing unusual for Marik. Seto had noticed that he tended to look out for those not included in Yami and Yugi's inner circle of friends. Not that Yugi-tachi excluded anyone on purpose, they just tended to have certain levels of friendship without realising it. And, of course, Marik was a firm believer in the fact that some people needed looking after, even if they didn't like it. Bakura was one of these people, and Seto suspected that he was another.

"I'm not sure, he just hasn't been himself lately. I think Ryou said he'd been having nightmares or something." Marik frowned, his concern for the usually cocky little tomb robber written all over his face. Seto took this in and watched Bakura as well, not really used to being worried about anyone other than Mokuba. Marik's moods were often infectious, though, and as he watched Yami get up and wander over to the thief, Seto felt a growing sense of apprehension fill him.

XxXxX

Over in his secluded little corner, Bakura ignored the party winding down around him and continued to stare off into the darkness outside. Ryou was right, he had been having nightmares lately. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly getting them now, of all times, but the lack of sleep was making him edgy.

He'd probably have been fine if the Pharaoh hadn't suddenly begun to take something of an interest in him. Whether it was trying to be friends or something more, he didn't care. He didn't want it, he'd been fine just being left alone. He got on well with Marik, Malik, his own hikari and a few others, but there were certain people he knew he'd never be able to be more than civil to, and even that was an effort at times. The unwanted attentions of the game king were probably what had triggered his nightmares, he mused. They were usually centred on his death, which hadn't been pleasant by any stretch of the word. He had no desire to relive it every night, and he resented the fact that Yami had forgotten most of his past life, while he remembered much of his. The worst bits, it seemed, not that very much of it had been anything other than an ongoing struggle for survival, which he'd lost a lot sooner than he would've liked.

The darkness beyond the window was comforting to him, since he'd spent so much of his existence in it. Being trapped like that in a place where darkness covered everything all of the time, you either learned to love it or went insane.

He didn't want to be here, he wanted to be out there in the dark. Had he not given in to Ryou's pleading and turned up, though, it would have given Yami an excuse to come knocking on his door asking if he was alright.

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear, Bakura thought as none other than the king of games himself crossed the large room towards him. Every instinct he had was telling him not to wait for Yami to reach him. Go out onto the balcony, climb down to the ground and get out of this place, they told him. It was too late, though. Yami stood before him, looking mildly concerned because of the shadows beneath his eyes from lack of sleep and the way he leant heavily on the wall for support.

"Are you alright? Ryou mentioned you haven't been getting much sleep lately," Yami said, running his eyes over Bakura in a way that made the thief's skin crawl with disgust.

"I'm fine," he growled, making a mental note to have a word with his hikari about not broadcasting his weaknesses to the entire world.

"You don't look fine," Yami persisted, frowning in disapproval at Bakura's ever-present attitude.

"I am fine." The grave robber hissed, eyes glittering angrily. He didn't want Yami near him. His skin was starting to prickle with sweat and the pharaoh's deep voice was setting off ripples in his memory, words dredging up images that made him swallow hard against the bile rising in his throat. Not even he had deserved to die like that, he thought bitterly through the rising wave of panic. He fought it back for a moment, trying to focus on what the pharaoh was saying to him, but when Yami took a step forward and laid a hand on his arm in a supposedly comforting gesture, Bakura's resolve broke.

Staggering back from the touch with an animal snarl and a panicked look in his eyes, Bakura shuddered and decided he'd had quite enough contact with the pharaoh for one night.

"I'm leaving," he spat venomously. Yami looked worried and moved forward to try and stop him running off, but Bakura darted around him and out through the balcony door, leaping over the side and vanishing into the darkness.

TBC.

"Madness comes, and madness goes
An insane place, with insane moves
Battles without, for battles within
Where evil lives and evil rules
Breaking them up, just breaking them in
Quickest way out, quickest relief wins
Never disclose, never betray
Cease to speak or cease to breathe
And when you kill a man, you're a murderer
Kill many, and you're a conqueror
Kill them all ... Ooh ... Oh you're a God!"

Fear the random Megadeth lyrics, and review or fear the wrath of the sleepy authoress.